Another Way
by divine one
Summary: Callie Torres is new to Seattle and to SGH; how does she fit in with her new coworkers. Callie and cast.
1. Welcome To Seattle Grace

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** Another Way  
**Chapter** Welcome To Seattle Grace  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Characters **_Callie and cast... pairings undecided! _  
**Rating** PG  
**Words** 1200  
_**Warning/Spoiler/Summary**_ _None. None._ _So I was curious, what would happen if Dr. Callie Torres came to SG as a new doctor. Would things end up differently?  
__**Disclaimer**_ _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show __**Grey's Anatomy**__. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of __**devylish**__. __**devylish**_ _is in no way associated with the TV show __**Grey's Anatomy **__and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made._

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Already bored with the official 'tour' and 'get to know the hospital staff' schedule that she'd been provided, Dr. Callie 'call me Calliope and I'll break you' Torres took the call of nature (her guide's call of nature) as a chance to escape.

She knew, as the the new 'golden child' Orthopedic Surgeon for Seattle Grace hospital, that she should follow the schedule and agenda that had been set for her, but... well, she also knew if she had to listen to the chirping and cutesy smiles of Pediatric MD Arizona Robbins any longer, she'd kill herself.

Oh, Dr. Robbins was cute enough, but well, Callie had sworn off of women after her thing in Miami with the estimable Dr. Erica Hahn. That hadn't ended well. She'd gotten past her parent's prejudice, and her siblings' prejudice... and her friends' prejudice... only to find out that she and Erica? Yeah, not the best fit.

So yeah, she, for the past four months, had been off of women. And off of men. She was off of romance altogether. The move to Seattle Grace had actually kind of been started through her desire to get away from it all. Erica, past boyfriends and girlfriends... just... all of it.

And so she found herself in Seattle, Washington, pretty much as far away across the country from her family and friends as she could be.

And she was questioning her decision already. Spring in Seattle? What spring? It was cold as hell in Seattle this month and they dared to call it Spring? And don't think her mother hadn't 'subtly' pointed out the difference of temperature between Miami and Seattle in her daily voice mail this morning. She never missed a chance to try and lure her baby girl back to Florida.

Wandering around a corner Callie saw a few women standing at station, chatting...Chatting and staring. Staring at a few men who were discussing something about halfway done the hall. She sidled up behind women. One or two of the women looked up at her curiously when she arrived, the others ignored her presence and simply continued to chat.

"-- his third nurse this week. He's on a roll."

"He could roll on me anytime he wants to."

"I can't fucking believe you just said that! McSteamy? You'd do McSteamy?!" A curly haired slender Asian woman addressed a skinny dishwater blonde.

"Not so loud! Jesus Yang! Yes, I'd do McSteamy... I wouldn't make him my lifelong partner or anything, but... yeah... sleep with him...?"

"You do know his 'thing' has been in more women than anyone else in this hospital?"

Callie glanced down the hall at the men who seemed to be the topic of discussion. There were five of them. A tall dark black man, a look of authority on his face... maybe in his mid thirties... forty years old. A pale redhead, hair close shorn to his scalp. A brunette with dark wavy hair, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against a wall. A muscular greyish blond haired man with his hands tucked in his pockets. And last, but not least, another brunette with short hair and a surly look on his otherwise handsome face.

"Practice makes perfect and he **has **to be 'perfect' by now with all of the practice he's had... besides, I'd make him wear a condom." The slender blonde with the name tag Grey attached to her chest responded as she flipped through a few pages of the file she was pretending to look at.

Yang gave a snort of laughter. "Oh c'mon... you and McSteamy? Naw...." she looked back down the hall, "McDreamy is more your speed."

All of the women spared a glance in the direction of the cluster of men. And Callie found herself wondering which was 'McDreamy', and then she found herself wondering if they all had 'McNicknames'.

"What is it with you and McDreamy and me?"

"I just see the possibilities."

"Yeah well, I," Grey responded, "See possibilities with me and McSteamy."

"Pfft! Now, me? I'm still trying to hunt me down a piece of that yummy Dr. Burke."

"He'll never break his Dr./Resident rule."

"He's never gotten an offer from me before." Yang wrote a note on one of her patient's files.

"What about you Izzie?"

"I'm not interested in any of them."

"I'm not asking you who you want 'to have and hold' for the rest of your life," Yang bit out. "We just want to know who you'd want as a bed buddy?"

"I hate this discussion." Izzie 'Stevens' muttered.

Callie opened her mouth, "I'd do them all; I mean, they're all kind of cute." _Okay, so the self imposed abstinence was clearly affecting her in negative ways. Negative, mouth open too much, ways._

The women she was standing behind all turned and looked at her. Yang, of course, was the first to speak.

"Who are you?"

Smiling, Callie held out her hand, "Torres. Dr. Callie Torres, Orthopedics. I'm new."

The women stared at her for a few seconds before Yang, studying her frame a few times before shaking her head offered, "You can't choose them all. That's cheating. You have to pick one... or maybe two, at most." She finally reached out for Callie's extended hand and gave it a firm shake. "Cristina Yang, last year res, Cardio." She pointed to her left, "Last year res, Dr. Meredith Grey, and," to her right, "Last year res, Dr. Izzie Stevens." And nodding to the woman farthest to the right, "Dr. Lexie Grey, second year res, and yeah, they're sisters." Turning her back on all of us, Yang faced the men again. "Now, Dr. Torres, make your pick."

Callie glanced at the ladies residents and then with a shrug, turned her attention back to the men. She took them all in for a few seconds before offering, "Well, knowing nothing at all about them beyond their looks... I'd say the brunette leaning against the wall, or maybe the tall blonde – hands in his pockets."

Yang spun back around to and grinned at her. "Good choices! McDreamy and McSteamy. They don't do anything for me, but they do seem to be hospital favorites." She trapped her folders against her chest as she slipped out of the gathering at the station and she added, "and, even better, you didn't pick my #1... I'd hate to start disliking you before you even started."

Callie smiled at the retreating figure of Dr. Yang. "Is she always like that?"

"Always." Meredith Grey smiled, "Welcome to Seattle Grace."


	2. All The Young Dudes

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** Another Way  
**Chapter** 2 All The Young Dudes  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Characters **_Callie and cast... pairings undecided! _  
**Rating** PG13  
**Words** 1511  
_**Warning/Spoiler/Summary**_ _None. None._ _So I was curious, what would happen if Dr. Callie Torres came to SG as a new doctor. Would things end up differently?  
__**Disclaimer**_ _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show __**Grey's Anatomy**__. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of __**devylish**__. __**devylish**_ _is in no way associated with the TV show __**Grey's Anatomy **__and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made._

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"How old are you?" Yang peered at the muscular, blond standing at the edge of the bar.

"What?" He eyed her and began to smile.

With a sigh she repeated her question, "how old are you?"

"22... Why, what'd you –?"

"Too young," Cristina snapped and let her eyes shoot past him. "Move!"

"What?" Confusion spread across his face.

Yang rolled her eyes then literally spelled it out for him "M. O. V. E. Move!"

"What the -"

Placing her hand on his shoulder, Cristina pushed past him and headed two stools down, stopping before a handsome, fair skinned black man holding a beer in his left hand.

She started over with him. "How old are you?"

He answered readily, "28."

Yang checked him out more intently, her eyes skipping over him from top to bottom. "Twenty eight will work." She glanced at the hand that held the beer. "Single?"

"Yes," he answered, amusement glinting from his light eyes.

"Straight?"

"I could prove it to you, if you'd like?" He offered as he let his eyes trail over her figure appreciatively.

"Down boy! I'm on a scouting mission here." Turning to the side she pointed to the booth she was sharing with Grey and Torres. "See the brunette over there, in the second booth from the back?"

He peered across the crowded room curiously, then nodded affirmatively. "Yeah."

"Okay, I need you to hit on her."

"What?"

"Why do you men keep asking 'what'? Why don't you all just do as you're told?"

"Maybe because we're men, not dogs?"

She snorted, "Oh please, I'd never insult a dog by comparing him to a man." Taking his beer from him, she took a sip. "Pacifico?"

"A woman who knows her beer. I'm intrigued."

"Yeah well, unintrigue yourself. I'm not interested. Like I said, I'm scouting for a friend."

Ignoring her words of disinterest, he reached out, took his beer back from her, and taking his own sip he repeated her earlier question. "How old are you?"

"One, it doesn't matter, because 'I'm not interested', two, I'm a girl, and we don't share our ages."

"At least tell me your single."

She sighed, "Look, for all it matters to you, I'm single, 45 years old, and a lesbian. There, does that help any?"

"I like older women, and maybe I could convince you to play for my team."

Yang groaned. "Look, my friends and I are going to be joined in about five minutes by three guys. When they're settled at our table, I want you to come over and hit on my friend. The brunette one. Ask her to dance, or buy her a drink, or... I don't know do something."

"Why?"

Cristina closed her eyes, again wondering why more people didn't just do as she told them to do. "I want to see if any of them is interested in her and, the best way to do that, is to watch how they react when," she opened her eyes and waved her hands at him, "competition, is around." Frustration mounting, she moaned and stomped her foot, "look, if you're not up for it...?"

"I'll do it."

She blinked, "You will?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

"Really?"

"Just give me a sign when you want me to come over."

"Really?"

"Woof woof," he responded with a grin.

Yang bit back a smile. "Yeah, well..., okay. I'll raise my hand like I'm calling the waiter over for drinks, that'll be your signal." She checked him out from top to bottom again. _Definitely hot. _"Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay then." Backing away, she offered a grudging, "Thanks."

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Callie had been at Seattle Grace for five weeks now, and she was finally settling into a feeling of belonging. Not only could she make it to the hospital cafeteria without getting lost anymore, but she'd made friends.

Cristina Yang was chief amongst those friends. Yang with her straightforward, brash, humor and honesty. They'd clicked immediately. So much so that, Callie had become her room mate, moving out of her room at the Archfield, and into Yang's two bedroom apartment.

Less immediately, on the friend **click** scale had been Meredith Grey, with her earnest, anxious, do-anything-for-you, righteousness. Callie had been happy to find that underneath Grey's goody two shoedness there was a darker more gritty woman underneath. Meredith could be a tough cookie when she needed to be.

And then there were the boys.

_Mmmmm, yeah, the boys._

Seattle was filled with hot men; and apparently nearly all of them congregated at Seattle Grace Hospital.

Take Dr. Derek Shepherd, for instance, Neurosurgeon and god. With hair any woman would kill for, and those puppy dog blue eyes that made a woman think he was reading her soul every time he looked at her. He was so perfect-boy-next-door gentlemanly, that Callie wondered if anything ever really ruffled his feathers.

And then there was Dr. Mark Sloan. Too handsomely chiseled, plastics surgeon who thought he was God's gift to women... And if the rumors in the locker room were anything to go by, he just _might_ be right in that thought. Definitely a man-whore, but... Callie was starting to think that those glints and sparks she saw in his eyes meant he had more going on in that pretty head than plans on how to get into the pants of the next woman he saw.

And last, but not least, there was the dark, no-shit-Sherlock, Dr. Alex Karev. Mischievous, knowing smirk, and frustrated, anger laced frame... she'd be scared of him, if she hadn't seen how gentle and caring and soft he could be with his patients. Not that she'd ever point that fact out to him.

But yeah here she was, surrounded by beautiful women, gorgeous men, and temptation. All of them making her want to fall off the wagon and leave her new-found celibacy far, far behind.

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The aforementioned men had just arrived at the bar and were settling into the booth, Karev next to Meredith, who sat next to Yang; while Callie found herself pressed into the opposite corner of the booth, with Derek and Mark filling out their membership.

A few minutes after the testosterone arrived, Callie glanced at Yang, raising a brow.

Yang knew Callie had a 'they all look delicious' crush on the boys. Yang also knew that Callie hadn't had sex for six months now. The look Callie was shooting at Yang at the moment was a look begging for commiseration for her 'being surrounded by the prettiness' problem.

All Cristina gave Callie in return was a smirk.

Raising her hand in the air apparently signally to the bartender that they needed drinks, Yang's smile grew bigger.

Karev, somewhat uncharacteristically offered, "I'll go up and get a round," but Cristina shot him down.

"Dude, let the waiters earn their tips."

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Responding to the signal they'd agreed upon, the man Yang had selected to play Callie's temporary boy-toy, started to wind his way through the Friday night crowd, coming to a stop at the edge of the booth. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you'd like to dance?"

Yang studied each of the men in turn, Shepherd, Sloan, Karev, trying to measure which of them was most perturbed by finding someone competing for Callie's attention.

She studied each of the men, only to find each of them looking at her... Her eyes landed on Karev's face last. "What?" She barked.

"'Dude'," he echoed her, "the man just asked you to dance."

She shook her head, "No he didn't, he," she glanced up at the man in question for confirmation.

Only to find him staring down at her, with a naughty smile on his face.

_Damnit!_

She peered at him and his extended hand. She **could** shoot him down; send him back to the bar with his sneaky self. But..., he was cute. Damn cute.

_Fuck it!_

"Move it freaks, I'm gonna get my dance on." She shooed her table mates out of the booth, clambering out of her seat and stepping up to the stranger with the dangerously handsome smile. He was seriously hot, with his caramel skin and bright gray blue eyes. Not that she'd let on to him the fact that she found him hot. Not for a second. "Okay buddy, let's get this over with."

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"Cute," Callie offered as the couple retreated.

"Very cute," Meredith agreed.

Karev groused, "What?" He waved at himself and the other two guys who shared the table, "We don't count?"

Meredith, leaned her shoulder in towards Alex and mockingly placated him, "Don't worry Karev, we still think you're pretty."

He growled and gave her the finger.


	3. Your Type

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** Another Way  
**Chapter** 3 Your Type  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Characters **_Callie and cast... pairings undecided! _  
**Rating** PG13  
**Words** 2306  
_**Warning/Spoiler/Summary**_ _None. None._ _So I was curious, what would happen if Dr. Callie Torres came to SG as a new doctor. Would things end up differently?  
__**Disclaimer**_ _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show __**Grey's Anatomy**__. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of __**devylish**__. __**devylish**_ _is in no way associated with the TV show __**Grey's Anatomy **__and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made._

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THREE WEEKS LATER

"So, how's your little thing with that telemetry nurse from 4NT going?" Derek rolled deodorant under one arm and then the other. "What's her name? Lynn? Linda?"

"Lilah; and," Mark smirked, "I can now say that I've been there, and done that."

Derek snorted lightly and shook his head. "Does it **ever** stay in your pants?"

"Does it ever come **out** of yours?"

Derek grabbed his boxers and stepped in to them. "It gets out plenty, thanks for asking. I'm just more... selective than you."

"And 'selective' is your code word for 'once a year'?" Sloan crouched a little and looked into the mirror hanging on the door of his locker, combing his hair.

"Ass."

Mark grinned and reached for his shirt. "I may be an ass, but I'm a happy, satisfied ass." He slipped his arms into the shirt, "and I plan to be even more satisfied soon."

"New conquest on the radar?"

"Mm hmm. Something spicy and curvy this time."

Derek's pause was almost imperceptible; he continued to pull on his own shirt as he casually asked, "Another nurse?"

"I'm challenging myself this time, a Doctor."

_Shit_. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I've decided to aim my attention at Dr. Callie Torres."

Derek kept his eyes on the buttons of his shirt. "Hmm."

Mark looked up from tucking his shirt into his pants. "What? You don't think she's hot?"

Derek cleared his throat, "No. No... she's definitely a beautiful woman. It's just," he tried to keep his tone light, "She... just doesn't really seem to be your type." A_nd you're definitely not her type._

"My type?"

"You know you tend to like them tiny and waify, or model thin and tall. Torres isn't... I mean... she's got," his hands waved through the air in the shape of an hourglass.

Sloan grinned, "So I'd noticed." He stopped grinning, "But what the hell do you mean she's not my type. I like alllll kinds of women. I'm an equal opportunity lover; short, tall, skinny, curvy, blondes, brunettes, -"

"Red heads," both Derek and Mark finished simultaneously; memories of Addison Forbes Montgomery flashing through their minds.

Derek shook his head and zipped up his pants. "Yeah, well, all I'm saying is that she doesn't seem your type."

Sloan closed his locker door and leaned against it as he watched Derek run his hands through his hair.

He squinted at his friend for a few seconds before it finally hit him. He crowed, "Shepherd, you think Torres is hot!"

Derek's fingers didn't falter as he put the final touch on his hair. He nonchalantly offered, "I'd be blind if I didn't think she was good looking."

"Yeah. No. You think she's 'HOT' hot." Mark smirked, "'She's not my type', my ass! If she's not someones type, she's not _your _type. You wouldn't know how to handle her. You'd start drooling and staring uncomprehendingly at the first curve she moved in your direction. IF she'd even consider throwing a curve in your direction." Mark picked up his bag and muttered loudly, "Talk about someone not being someone's type!"

Derek shut his locker, "Not that I'm interested in her, but if I were, I bet I'd be soooo much more her type than you are McHappyDick." Derek walked past Mark, making it all the way to the locker room door before Mark responded.

"Deal."

"Huh?"

"Deal. I'll bet you I'm more Dr. Torres' type than you are."

Derek turned around, "What? Look I was just kidding. 'I bet you' is a turn of phrase."

"Afraid you'll lose?"

Derek had a sudden flashback to all of the times during their childhood that Sloan had said those very words; issuing a challenge or dare to him. All of the bets and the games they use to play that never quite worked out the way planned. "No, I'm not afraid I'll 'lose'. I'm being an adult here. You ought to try it sometime." He turned back to the door, pulling it open.

"Chicken."

Derek pushed the door shut. "Look, how would we even measure who's more her type? I mean, first person to get a date with her wouldn't work, that could just be timing; who gets to her first.

Mark lifted a brow. "Tell you what, let's go have a scotch. We can hammer out the rules while we drink." Mark stepped in front of Derek and pulled the door open. As he moved out into the hall he heard Derek muttering quietly behind him.

Knowing he was probably going to regret it, Derek followed Mark out into the hall. "I want it noted that I haven't agreed to the bet. Because, a bet like that would be childish." _And we're all such fucking adults around here._

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Callie watched Yang glance at her cellphone, smile, then go back to signing orders at the nurse's station.

"So how IS Jackson doing?" Callie asked with a smirk.

Yang looked up at her, "Huh?"

Callie gestured to the phone, "Jackson?"

"Oh, uh, what makes you think that was Jackson?"

"Cuz you're grinning like a fool, and the only one who makes you grin like a fool is Jackson."

"I'm not grinning."

Meredith came around the corner and backed Callie's claim up, "Yeah, yeah you are. All the time. It's kind of scary."

"I don't know what you two are talking about. I don't grin. Jackson doesn't make me grin."

"See! Look at that! You can't even say his name without smiling!" Callie pointed at her friend.

With a groan Yang lowered her head to the counter "He's so gooooood! If only he wasn't so good... !"

"Do I want to know what you're talking about?" Karev dropped a file into the processing tray at the counter.

"No."

"Jackson."

"Jackson."

Alex growled quietly. He wasn't a Jackson fan; swooping in and taking Yang without even waiting to see if she was already taken... without waiting his turn in line for her... like some people had.

Meredith, standing closely enough to Alex to hear his growl, curved her arm through his.

In the last few weeks she'd seen it. She'd gotten it. She'd come to understand that Alex - abrupt, to the point, overly honest Alex – had a thing for Cristina. She didn't think it was a serious thing', but it was a 'thing' none the less. And for someone like Karev, someone who didn't 'do emotions', having a thing for Yang was tough. Especially when it looked like that 'thing' was going to remain one sided.

"Hey Karev, you're off duty now, right?" She didn't wait for his answer. "I need your help at the house, I want to build a deck and you," she squeezed his bicep, "my muscled friend, have been nominated to help me."

He scowled down at her. "Nominated by who?"

"By me." She pulled at his arm and dragged him down the hall.

Callie watched the two of them wander away, Meredith holding onto Alex as she hauled him off to do some manual labor for her. They made a cute couple. A cute, unaware couple, but cute, none the less.

"Okay, I'm out of here." Yang straightened up and began to put her documents together.

"Big plans tonight?"

"Big plans to go home, get laid, and eat some pizza."

"In that order?"

"Might have the pizza first." She looked up at the ceiling, then back over at Torres, "Naw, who am I kidding? I'm definitely getting laid first."

"Tell Jackson I said 'hi'."

And then she was alone. Again.

Yeah it's true her celibacy rule was self imposed, but still... being so far from home, and watching all of her new friends wander off in pairs... off to have sex... or build decks... it was starting to make her question her no men/women rule.

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Two Days Later

"So, dinner. You and me. A bottle of this amazing Pinot Grigio I just found, Chicken Piccata, … a little tiramasu?"

Callie spared a glance in Mark Sloan's direction as he leaned against the counter. "Why would I go out to dinner with you?" She'd learned the best way to deal with Sloan was to be straightforward. He seemed to find it harder to flirt with a woman when she wasn't blushing, fumbling, or playing 'the game'. And the man definitely had a reputation as womanizer; in the two plus months that she'd been with SGH Sloan had been through three women.

That she knew of.

She understood _why_ he'd been through the women; he was hot. As in _drop your jaw_ hot. But she wasn't certain that she wanted to be another one of his statistics. Not just yet anyway.

"Because we'd have fun. Make beautiful music together."

She looked up at him with a smile. "If I did agree to go out with you, Sloan, you better believe I wouldn't be blowing on your flute."

He groaned in mock frustration. "C'mon Torres. Give me a shot. I'm a much better guy than most people give me credit for."

"You'd have to be. They aren't giving you much credit at all."

He frowned; he knew he was known as a womanizer, but he liked to think that his reputation also included being a generally nice guy and a good - very good - doctor. That he might be seen as nothing more than an excellent lay disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

Hearing nothing but silence after her little jab, Callie looked up to see Mark's face, an expression of consternation on it. Sighing inwardly, she closed her eyes for a second. She was such a push over. A softy. "Fine. We can do dinner. Friday?"

Mark snapped out of it. "Friday? Friday is good. 7pm?"

"7 it is."

He turned his full mega-watt smile on. "I'll pick you up at your place."

Callie gathered her files and started to walk away. She threw over her shoulder, "You do know there's not going to be any sex, don't you?"

"I'll be happy with _just_ the pleasure of your company!" Mark called out to her retreating figure.

The figure he was taking a lot of pleasure in watching.

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30 Minutes Later

"Hey."

Callie had just winged her way out of one of her patient's rooms when she heard the greeting from coming from behind her. Giving a half turn as she continued to walk, she responded with a quick "Hi," and finished typing the last of her patient notes into her notebook. When she'd finished, she flashed a smile at Derek Shepherd who had fallen into step with her.

For several seconds they walked down the hall in silence; Callie stealing small glances at him from the corner of her eye. And Derek looking at the ground and the walls and the ceiling, anything to keep him from looking at her and blurting out the the dinner invite.

They had become friends in the past few months... largely due to the fact that they hung out with the same people, but also, partially, because of the similarities in their upbringings. They were both close to their families, came from money, had been brought up Catholic. Of course, that was where their similarities ended. She was a bisexual, Latina, with a penchant for saying what she thought. Diplomacy Schimplomacy. Shepherd, on the other hand, pretty much always said the right thing. And he was good looking, genial..., the kind of guy a woman's parents want her to bring home to meet them.

Callie smirked, if she brought him home with her, her parents would just be happy that she was bringing home someone with a penis.

"What're you smiling about?" He'd watched the smile blossom on her lips as they walked in silence and as he tried to work his nerve up.

"The fact that you have a penis." She stopped stock still in the hall, her hand flying up to her mouth as soon as she realized what she'd said. Eyes wide, she looked at Shepherd. "Uhm, uh, I'm sorry. That... that didn't come out the way that I meant. I mean, you having a penis isn't funny. At all. It's appropriate. And reasonable. And i"m certain, it's a lovely penis, and... oh shit!"

She clapped her hand back over her mouth, her tanned skin tinging pink.

Derek wasn't positive that Callie 'smiling' about his having a penis was a good thing, but he'd have to assume that her thinking about his **having** was a penis a good thing. Taking a chance, he moved closer to her, a grin edging his face. "Will you have dinner with me?"

She dropped her hand from her still flushed face, "Huh?"

"Dinner? With me?"

_I go from no dates for eight months and now suddenly, two invites in one day? _"Uhm, okay." _Suave and sophisticated Calliope!_

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Friday?"

"I, uh, can't Friday... Saturday?"

"Okay then. Saturday. I'll pick you up at your place, say... 730?"

"Sounds good."

Derek smiled again, and Callie totally got the McDreamy thing at that very moment.

As he walked away she offered a self deprecating, promise. "And I won't mention your penis even once during dinner. You have my word."

His laughter echoed down the hall.


	4. Drool

One of the worst ideas I've ever had.

Ever.

I stand looking out the glass planes of my back door and watch him drinking the lemonade I'd just put out for him.

He was wearing jeans – low slung – and tennis shoes, and that's it. The sun, normally so reticent to make an appearance in Seattle, had been shining every day this week. Every day that Karev had been at my house, prepping the pieces and the layout of what would be my deck. The deck I hadn't even really wanted. The deck I'd only mentioned because I wanted to fix the pain I'd seen in Alex's eyes when he saw Yang being all happy and crap with Jackson.

My plan had been simple. Give Alex something to do to keep him busy. To help take his mind off of his... crush.

Simple plan.

Except for the fact that now, every day for a week, I'd been confronted by a sweaty, half naked, embarrassingly sexy, Alex Karev.

In my yard. Doing hot, muscley, manly things.

I force myself to turn away from the door only to find Izzie standing behind me.

She has one brow arched and she's leaning against the counter, smirking at me.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"Oh...nothing."

"Why are you staring at me?"

She shook her head, the smirk remaining firmly in place, "It's nothing."

"What? I can't look?" I ask exasperatedly.

"Oh sure, you can look," she pushed away from the counter and headed to the door I was standing by. She glanced out of the window and took in Alex's sweaty figure. "No harm in looking." She turned around to face me, "it's the drooling that's an issue." And with a light chuckle, she left me alone.

With my drool.

((((((((()))))))))))

"So how many dates have you had?"

"With Ms. Torres?" Derek put his bottled water down and offering a proud smile, responded, "Three. And you?"

"Four." Sloan took a self-pleased sip of his coffee.

"Have you seen her dance yet?" Derek asked.

Mark's smile faded, "No."

Derek shook his head... "She's... I mean... wow."

"We are talking 'dancing' right? Not 'DANCING'?" Mark air quoted the word.

Derek's face took on a sheepish cast, "I've been meaning to bring that up." He twiddled with his napkin. "Maybe we should cancel the bet."

"Cancel the bet? Are you giving up?"

"I'm not giving up... I just... It was a stupid ass bet. Torres... Callie is -"

"Don't use the word 'special'."

" – Special."

"Seriously... even put the hint of a sexy woman in front of you and you're whipped."

"I'm not whipped. I -"

"Oh so you've just finally come to the realization that you don't stand a chance of getting into Torres' bed before me?"

"That's not what I'm –."

"... no that's fine, you can admit defeat." Mark put down his cup. "Of course, just because you stop the bet, it doesn't mean I will."

"You can't have a one sided bet Sloan."

"So it becomes less of a bet, and more of a goal." He settled back on his side of the booth. "Me, and Callie... some hotel room with a plush down pillow top mattress..."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying..."

"Yeah, well, just stop saying."

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Fine, the bet is still on," Derek stood up ignoring Mark's triumphant grin as he followed suit.

As the two men headed to the front door of the restaurant Derek added, "but I want it on record that I that I think this is a bad idea."

As they exited the cafe, both men were so involved in their private thoughts and stratagems regarding one Dr. Callie Torres that they failed to notice Avery Jackson settled in the booth behind them.

(((((((((()))))))))))))

"I suppose I should feel complimented?" Callie's full lips were pressed tight.

"If you want help de-balling them... let me know. I saw a thing on PBS on the women of PaapaNugalla... I totally think I have the scrotum removal thing they do memorized." Yang added, "... and they don't use any anesthetic."

Callie smiled despite the turmoil in her head. "The worst thing about it? They were doing a good job of it. Of seducing me." She peered at Yang. "I mean, Jesus! I was probably only a date or two away from... I mean... with either of them."

"Maybe you should just screw them both regardless. I mean... sex is sex is sex. And," Yang waved her hand in the general direction of Callie's hips. "Your parts haven't seen much action recently."

"Don't remind me. That's probably half the reason that they're making any headway with me. I haven't had any other distractions to … uhh … keep me busy."

Yang picked up the bottle of tequila sitting on the coffee table and poured both of them another shot. "Out of curiosity..., which one of them was in the lead?"

"In the...?" Callie's eyes went wide and she blushed a light shade of pink.

"C'mon. McDreamy vs McSteamy. It's one of the epic questions of the century. Both of them vying for a hot blooded American woman, using all of their skills of seduction... Who's got the best game?" She leaned forward. "Ooooh, even better, now that you know about the bet, if you give in and do them _both_ you could answer the oft asked questions of girth/length... curve."

Callie nearly choked on her tequila. Wiping the alcohol spittle off of her chin, she shook her head at Yang. "Unfortunately for the historians of the century, I'm not going to give in. Not now." She narrowed her eyes. "But I **am** tempted to make the boys _think_ I'm about to give in."

"I quote the philosophers when I say" 'huh'?"

"They thought they could just... play with me? Use me and, and, well... use me?" Her chocolate browns sparkled, "Oh... it's on! It is sooooooooo on"


End file.
